Dear World
by Cheddar the Cheese
Summary: When Lavender wries a letter to the world, it reveals a side of her that no one could have possibly known... but now it's too late to help her. How will Hogwarts react? Updated 9/15
1. Lavender

I don't own it  
  
Dear World,  
  
When I was little, my brother and I used to write letters to each other. 'Dear Lavender,' 'Dear Andrew,' We used to tell each other everything in those letters. All the things we were scared to say out loud. That is the basis for this letter. It is to any one and every one. It is All the words I could never bring my self to say out loud.  
  
Before everything around me went to hell, my mother told me to always look to the future. That was where life lay. Ahead of me. At the time I felt I was always running to catch up to it but never could and in a way I still feel that way. I guess that's why I liked divination so much in my third year.  
  
That class was a chance for me to see what was coming and avoid the bad stuff. But it never worked. I never lost faith that it some day might but it never did and faith faded to hope and hope to longing for it to be so. That longing turned to despair as the darkness got heavier but it still never worked.  
  
So I guess this is it. Goodbye or whatever you want to call it. I just can't take it any more. I know now that it isn't right for me to be afraid of going home. Leaving with such fear in me that I can feel it vibrating through every part of me. But for a long time, I couldn't see that.  
  
My father used to tell me I wasn't his kid. Mostly when he was very drunk and he was always drunk. He drank because he couldn't get a job and no one would hire him because he was a drunk. "Look at you!" he'd tell me. "How in hell can that be mine?" As if I was a thing rather than a person.  
  
When sober, he was a pleasant man. The man my mom fell in love with and married. The man she had two children with. I have only dim memories of this man. I got good at avoiding both of my parents when I could which ment that sometimes I'd miss out on the good while hiding from the bad.  
  
He once accused my mom of trying to rape my brother. He hit her hard across the face." You're sick, Valerie! You know that? Trying to rape your own kid!" Andrew and I sat unnoticed on the couch in the other room. He had tears in his eyes but no idea what was going on. Mom had sat with us only moments before in a blissful state with her arm harmlessly over my brother's shoulders. That's not rape.  
  
So you can see why I leaped at the chance to get away from it and go to Hogwarts. Going home at holidays and only happy to see Andrew. My father, harmless as he may appear at times, filled me with fear. Although he never hit me, just to think about him sent fear rushing through my body. A fear that physically hurt. A fear that felt like my chest would burst apart and it was the fear of what might happen instead of what did.  
  
Likewise my mother filled me with shame. I was ashamed that she put up with it and ashamed that I might really be some guy's bastard Daughter... Ashamed that I might turn out like her  
  
At school I was a different person. I decided on the interminably long ride to the train in my first year that I would not be my mother. I would not sleep around but I would give the appearance that I might. I would not be my father. I'd never raise a hand but I'd act like it had never happened to me. I wouldn't be my brother. I would be strong but know when to be meek to avoid confrontation. I would be Lavender, child of no one.  
  
I guess that at the age of eleven I didn't think of it in those terms. The life that Hogwarts saw was created by my subconscious. But I could wholly swallow who I was and those unhidable parts became mixed in with my new life that it was almost impossible to tell what was fabrication and what was real. Even now I have a hard time telling the old from the new.  
  
As much as I swore I'd be different, I found myself one of the forgotten students. We are the ones who live in Gryffindor tower but yet worlds away from Potter's fame. We basked in the reflected glow of his house points and won Quidditch games. The rest of us went about our lives, living out romances and friendships in the space of weeks some times, with no thought to us except when we might be used or manipulated to help save the world. Why did I want more than that?  
  
I never told any of my friends what it was like at home. I was coming closer and closer to blocking it all out. They only would have pitied me if I had and pity was worse than anything for me. I didn't want pity or comfort. I wanted to be left alone. I wanted out.  
  
I can't say exactly what it is that has pushed me so far. I was doing wonderfully well. There was no defining moment that made me so entirely sick of everything around me that I want out so badly. I am sickened by the sights and the smells. The way people feel they have it so badly off but never stop to realize some one's always got it worse. I've got it worse. Yes, pity Harry Potter. He's got it so horrible! With his fame and his money and friends. I haven't got any of that. Not really.  
  
Maybe it was Cedric's death. I remember envying him his freedom from all of this. I really envied that. I envied the sight of his parents crying for him, I bet my folks won't care. My dad will spit on the coffin and say 'good, one less mouth to feed.' And he'll be right.  
  
And yes, I am afraid to die but I am more afraid to go on living in this world. Afraid my father will Come back into my room and do things to me that I know is wrong. I've known it was wrong for a long time now but can't stop it. He's done it so many times before and never before has it gotten to me the way this last time did. Before I could always convince myself in some way that I deserved it. That he should do these things to me because of what I am. I see how wrong it is now but that makes it worse. Harder for me to live with myself.  
  
So I guess this is it. More so for me than for you because you'll keep on going but the end never the less. I only hope that some one mourns my passing. Dear world, watch out for Andrew won't you? Keep an eye on him and eye on the future. And by hell, don't end up ashamed of your back round or you will end up like this. Like me. This is what I have to say to the world. If I can leave nothing else behind, let this be it. Heed my words won't you?  
  
Signed, Lavender Brown  
  
Please leave a review 


	2. Justin

Dear World,  
  
It is so cold up here. The wind breezes in and out of here like ladies in a French boutique. Full of sound and fury. Hiding a power and fierceness I've never known. But at the same time, beautiful and sweet carrying the distant scent of a campfire lit by the clans of elves that live in the forest. I can think up here. It is so clear and my head has been so clouded these last few days with thoughts I can not sort through. So today after classes were over I climbed up this tree. It is high and I know that I shouldn't be even this far into the forest but I needed to be away. It gets to be too much at times. Lavender Brown is dead.  
  
I saw a show once. It was titled "six characters in search of an author." I can not remember who wrote it but I remember it well. I didn't understand it at first. But I do now. Lavender killed herself two nights ago and left the rest of us with something missing. We suddenly became the characters with this story that needed to be told but no one will write it for us. So we become the writers.  
  
Dumbledore read us the letter. We never knew. How can some one so happy hide such a painful secret? I can't imagine. We all saw her the happy person she projected herself to be. We were all so blind!  
  
It feels strange. I saw her everyday. At lunch and dinner. At Qudditch games and down in Hogsmead. But I never knew her. I can't remember ever saying more than a simple hello to her in passing her in the hallways but some how I know my life will never be the same again.  
  
Something inside of me feels like it died with her. I feel so guilty about not getting to know her better. Could I have made a difference in her finale choice? Would it have mattered at all? Selfish thoughts, I know, but I can't help it. My mind wanders further than this page and these words can carry me. Why do I feel like this? Like I could have stopped her from doing it. The guilt thrums in my veins like water down a rushing river. and yet I also feel like I don't feel nearly guilty enough. A young woman is dead.  
  
I find myself thinking of what I might have done. If I was Lavender Brown an my father beat me and my brother. If he raped me and my mother. If my mother was too frightened to run away. Would I have chosen the same way out? Would I have told some one? I pray to God or whatever higher being may reside above me that I never am forced to find out. My family is quiet to the point of being annoyingly perfect at times but I wouldn't alter it for the world.  
  
That's a funny concept isn't it? Perfection. We all thought Lavender had it perfect. We hated her and admired her because she was everything we could never be. But She wasn't perfect. Perfect is never as complex as real life so perfection can never exist in the real world. I used to wish that I was perfect. I'd pretend to be. But I'm not. None of us are. If we were, we would have seen it and stopped her.  
  
But her death, I fear, is only the second of many we will see in the days to come. We all walk around in fear of dying. My father told me once that everything in history boils down to two things. Fear and Pride. We fight for something we are proud of because we are afraid to lose it. Was Lavender proud of anything though? Is that why she became so frightened of life that she ended it? I don't think it is ours to know but still the question haunts me.  
  
Fear. When it hits you it's like needles hitting up. It pluses through you in waves. An unstoppable force that leaves you with such and adrenaline rush you feel dizzy. Is that what she felt? Every night as her father entered her room? I can't even begin to imagine.  
  
Pride. It feels strange to see Harry Potter walking around like this. Normally he wears his pride like a cloak he can hid behind. But now he walks around like it was all his fault. Like he should have stopped it. A shrink would say he's going through depression and guilt but then so am I but I'm not acting like that... Am I?  
  
I remember when Cedric died. We Hufflepuffs were so proud and scared and guilty. We felt all of it. anger and hate and loathing. But it fells so different now. Like it's easier to take some how. And I feel guilty about that too. All this guilt is driving me mad.  
  
And so I'm here. The light is fading and I can only just see the words as they pour out of my quill. I wonder if this was how she felt. Like she was writing a farewell to some one. I can't explain it. It's like I may never get back. This is the end... Yes. It is. For I will never be the same person again. I have become suddenly a person I don't recognize. An angry man stands in that boy's place at the table when we stand to mourn the dead. Maybe it all comes down to three things instead of two. Fear, Pride, and Anger. Good-Bye Lavender.  
  
Signed,  
  
Justin F-F  
  
Please Reveiw 


	3. Lisa

I don't own it ****  
  
Dear World,  
  
That's how Lavender began her letter and so I shall begin mine. Our teachers suggested we write about how we feel. Most people shrugged it off but we're all doing it. Hell, I am. I need to get this off my chest before I explode. They want me to write how I feel. How do I feel? How am I supposed to feel?  
  
I feel like I've been cheated. Like nothing I've ever done was worth anything more than some dime-store novel that nobody wants to read. Lie it's not real. Like a fairy tale I used to hear my mom slur to me at night. No, fairy tales aren't real. Life is.  
  
It's so real at times that I wake up at the crack of dawn just so I can feel the pain behind my eyes. Pain that's physical. A pain that I can control by shutting my eyes and making it all go away. Behind closed eyes I never have to see the dark blue curtains of my bed as they close in on me reminding me what I am and where I'm from. I can drift away from it and back into my dreams. Dreams which, for a moment, are real enough for me.  
  
I see every one walking around here like it is the end of the world just because some Gryffindor offed herself. But I see it the way it really is. She wrote that letter for pity. Maybe even hoping some one would find it before she did anything about it and stop her. But no one did. Lavender Brown had it all but went down in a blaze of her own glory.  
  
Now what? What about the rest of us? And rest assured, there are more of us. Brown had it easy when pitted against some of us. She not the only one who had it bad. Hell, I would have liked to be her. It's easier than what I live with.  
  
No guns going off in the middle of the night. Not knowing until morning if you knew the victim or worse, the shooter. Waking up to find your mother passed out on the couch with a bottle of booze in one limp hand and the remains of her pot smoking on the table next to you with the bag still open and the only bible in the house missing the book of Jude. Lavender didn't have to go to her aunt's house only to find her twelve year old cousin pregnant with her sister. My sister... Damn.  
  
But you don't see me asking for pity. I'm not putting on a face for every one to pretend they know me. I don't care. I have everything I need. Hogwarts to escape my mother's house and studying to escape thinking about it. And when I've studied enough, I dance.  
  
Only in dance can I lose myself so compleatly that I am no longer Lisa Turpin but I become some one else entirely. I become the Dancer. My feet become part of the floor and then the sky as I leap above it all. I become lost compleatly in the movement and music. Lavender never had that and maybe she should have. She had nothing but a lie. If you spend all of your time really thinking about what's going on in your life then eventually you will be consumed by it. I don't hide it because I'm that has made me who I am. Don't pity me too because in twenty years I'll be dancing for the London Ballet and I'll be so far away from all of this that it won't be able to hurt me any more. I will live the music.  
  
So while every one may mourn her, I hate her. I hate that she thinks she had it so bad. I hate the way she was so fake about it. I hate that she took the easy way out while the rest of us fight it out every damned day. Once again those damn Gryffindors come out of their common room and do anything to grab the spotlight. I think Lavender was wrong for that house. She should have been a Ravenclaw. Maybe then she'd still be alive.  
  
I hate Lavender. For being brave enough to die and selfish enough to do it alone. Good riddance to lavender Brown. If she was so weak then she didn't deserve to live anyway. I hate her.  
  
Signed, Lisa Turpin  
  
**** Please review 


End file.
